The Metaphor of the Rings
It begins with the vision of a series of
gymnastic rings, hanging by ropes. A person jumps from a platform and grabs a
ring with the right hand and then – while maintaining momentum – reaches out and
grabs the next ring with the left hand; then, again, grasps the next ring with
the right, keeping the rhythm and moving through the line of rings.
This is the story of one person’s travels
through the rings. It can be applied to many others. This person has spent many
years perfecting travelling down a seemingly endless and very predictable row
of rings. The rings were of equal spacing and size and stretched over the
horizon. He was very good at swinging through the rings and was quite happy. He was able to move
swiftly, efficiently, and predictably along his narrow corridor of
interchangeable rings. His plans were to keep swinging through the rings until
retirement.
One morning he jumped from the platform,
beginning another day’s journey. From the time he hit the first ring it was
apparent that things had changed! The first ring was a bit off to the side. The
next ring was slightly closer than he was used to. As he continued to move he
discovered that the new ring-world was, indeed, very different – the rings were
spaced at unpredictable distances, some closer together, others further apart.
To make matters worse, the height began to vary. He had to struggle to reach
some that were high and drop down to catch some below him. Then they grew very
slippery, as though someone had put oil on them. As if that were not enough,
they began to vary in size, and then he discovered a few that were not rings at
all but trapeze bars – some of them broken and hanging only by a single chain
on one side. Then there was the light – it would suddenly grow very dark or the
lights would become glaringly bright. There was no pattern and it was disorienting.
He then discovered two distinct varieties
of fellow travellers. For the first time in his career, people began to pass
him, travelling with an ease and grace that seemed impossible on that confusing
and unpredictable array of gymnastic apparatus and rapidly changing visibility.
They were moving much faster than he was willing to risk, although, after
watching them, he thought he could learn how to do it. He next found a second
type of fellow traveller. Only, the people in this group were not moving – they
were stationary - hanging from individual rings or trapezes with both hands.
They got in his way and he really needed to be agile to duck around them.
There was no relief. Things kept getting
more difficult and he grew very tired, angry and frustrated. Why couldn’t
things be what they were? He had really excelled at swinging through
predictable, evenly spaced rings. Maybe he should just try and stop and take a
break. He was so tired and it was so difficult trying to move through the next
rings using his old skills. Perhaps he could take a quick rest on the next one,
just hold on with both hands for a while…
What do we learn from this story? One insight might be that you have to let go of one ring before you can grab hold of another and there
comes a moment of truth when, if you want to continue to move, you have neither
hand on a ring, but must have faith that you will have the ability to grasp the
ring in front of you. Another view might be that we have become used to the spacing, however uneven and yet more changes lead us to become exhausted and frustrated to a degree that makes us question our competency to continue. Another interpretation and a variation is that in moments of severe change and flux you are moving through the rings blindfolded and need to have faith that there will be a ring in front of you when you let go of the old one. And so on.
What do you take from this story? How many of your colleagues are finding the 'rings' further apart, at different heights and not even rings at all? How do you help your colleagues navigate their set of rings, or perhaps you are one of those who finds the rings becoming ever more difficult to cope with.
Quoting from 'Breaking Free', David Noer.
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